Dear Percy, Love Annabeth
by Annabeth-Artemis
Summary: "You told me you loved me, so why did you go away…" Annabeth knows she has to deal with life without Percy now that he's died in a car accident. How else could she but to write letters to him? AU one-shot. R&R!


**Hi! :D**

**Incoming new author here. Bring out the sirens and reign in the horses, right?**

**…I don't know what that means, either.**

**Anyway. Reviews will be appreciated greatly! All dispensers of constructive criticism get gallons of ice cream.**

**Say it, AA. Say it.**

**But…**

**Say it!**

**-sigh- I don'townPercyJacksonjdcivk...**

**What was that?**

**I don't own Percy Jackson and the Olympians or the Taylor Swift song Last Kiss, okay? -mumbles about bad social skills-**

**Good.**

**R&R! Love you all,**

**~AA**

It's a wintry Saturday afternoon, wind pounding snow onto the window. I lounge on the couch with some obscure mystery novel, blasting music from my stereo in my apartment until old Mrs. Hatter next door bangs on the wall. Turning it down a few notches, I study the room. An empty bowl that once held ice cream and its spoon sit on my worn wooden coffee table, along with a stack of scattered magazines that don't even interest me. My bed in the other room isn't made, sheets and comforter thrown limply into a linen pile. There's the smell of dirty laundry in the air. I should clean up, but I'm feeling feverish, even in this weather. Besides, it's Saturday, after all.

Usually I wouldn't be this lazy. But I haven't felt like doing much of anything—not even bothering to go to work—since the funeral last week.

BAM.

It's like I've been hit in the chest with a hammer. My gray eyes well up, making everything blurry. I feel the lump swell in my eyes, and I fumble for my pen and notebook. I manage to make it to the desk, scratching the first two words on the page I flip to.

_Dear Percy—_

A wet circle blossoms on the _P_. The tears are slipping down my cheeks like rain down a windowpane now. I write furiously for a few more minutes, before finally giving up and throwing my pen across the room and burying my face in my arms.

Then my phone buzzes in my pocket, and I sigh, wiping my eyes and pulling my hair back. I slip my phone out and slide my finger across the screen. "Hello?"

"Hey, girl. Just checking on you."

"I'm okay, Thals. Really." I nibble on my fingernail.

"Mm." She doesn't sound convinced. "Your voice is scratchy."

"Maybe I just woke up."

She sighs audibly. "Have you written anything?"

My eyes shift to the full page in front of me, covered in ink and wet blotches. "A-a little."

"Want me to come over?" Thalia sounds concerned.

I begin to decline her offer, but then I remember my hair isn't brushed, my eyes are red and puffy with crying and lack of sleep, and I'm wearing a dirty hoodie and sweats. I'm a mess. I need her "you have to" attitude, badly. "The weather's bad."

"Pfft, weather. Trust me, I outsmart New York traffic all the time, I can handle a little snow and ice. I can be there in ten." Her grin is almost audible. I check the clock above the mantle: 3:22.

"See you then." I grace myself with a little smile.

True to her word, Thalia rings the cheerfully broken doorbell at precisely 3:32. I drag myself to the door, mentally preparing myself for the verbal beating I'm going to get about mine—and my apartment's—appearance.

"Hey, Thals…"

"What the hell happened here?" She marches in without so much as a hello and surveys the living room. "Oh god, that bowl of ice cream is at least three days old. Vogue?" Thalia picks up one of the magazines with distaste. "You don't read Vogue."

I snatch it out of her hand. "Not usually. I was bored."

She marches into the other room. "Your kitchen's a wreck. When was the last time you did the dishes?" She lifts up an old paper towel.

"Hey, they're my dishes," I protest.

She shakes her head at the depressing music leaking from my stereo and at my outfit, but she sees my eyes. Her own blue ones changed from demanding to sympathetic. "Ann, I'm sorry. I know you're upset. Plowing on's my way of being okay. It's been hard—" She choked a little.

"No, it's okay." Everything in my vision blurs again, and I look up at the ceiling covered in peeling blue wallpaper. "I haven't been to work in a week. Without him there… no one to protect me from the sexual harassment. I might quit, but then where would I be? A coward who couldn't handle flirting and lost her apartment. It's not amazing, but better than nothing."

Thalia nods, biting her lip to try and keep the tears back. "It's been a month, almost exactly. You have written when you think about him?"

I hesitate, then push my hair back. "Thalia, I've filled two notebooks."

That's when the dam broke. I burst into tears, and Thalia opens her arms to hug me. She strokes my hair as I sob into her shoulder, and I hear her breathing shakily.

"You just need a few more days," she murmurs. "Want me to go?"

I bite my lip as a few more tears spilled out and cast a glance at my notebook. "Yeah… I just need some time alone."

"I'll see you later, okay? Call or text me whenever. And Annabeth?"

"Yeah?"

"It's okay to think about the accident."

Then she's gone.

I wait before closing the door, feeling like someone else was going to walk in. An eerie sense of déjà vu comes over me as I slowly swing the door shut and turn to put the ice cream bowl in the sink. I hear a new song play through my stereo.

_I still remember the look on your face_

_Lit through the darkness at 1:58_

_The words that you whispered_

_For just us to know_

_You told me you loved me_

_So why did you go away?_

I swallow and feel suddenly dizzy, and I step on something. My discarded pen. I pick it up and walk over to the desk, opening my notebook. I feel a lump rise in my throat as I read my last entry.

_Dear Percy—_

_Sometimes I feel like I'm in a play. There's so much acting. Acting like I'm okay all the time. I have a script. I have to stick to it, or everyone will know it's a lie. I play a role: girl that can be strong through her boyfriend's death, when in reality, there are days when I wonder if I should go on living._

_It's not the first time I've wondered about this. Honestly, it's not the first time I've written to you about it. But Percy… you were my center. You were what I fought for. Who I fought for. And now you're gone. I can't use my weapons anymore and my shield is gone; what do I have to defend myself with?_

_I remember when I would call you and we'd talk for hours when you were in Europe. You'd joke about the exotic women, and I'd joke about saving money on a wedding since you'd be with one of them. How I hate those jokes now._

_The one thing I can't ever stop thinking about is the driver of that car. His face when he saw us. Me yelling if you were okay, getting no response. Your face, deadpan, your beautiful eyes staring at nothing._

Lifting the pen, I added,

_Thalia came over today. She said her way of being okay was plowing on. I envy her and her ability to push grief away._

_Love, Annabeth_

I set down my pen and closed the notebook.

A million thoughts of Percy swirled through my mind as I sat there, absorbing the music.

_Because I love your handshake, meeting my father_

_I love how you walk with your hands in your pockets_

_How you kissed me when I was in the middle of saying something_

_There's not a day I don't miss those rude interruptions_

_And I'll go sit on the floor_

_Wearing your clothes_

_All that I know is_

_I don't know how to be something you miss_

_Never thought we'd have a last kiss_

_Never imagined we'd end like this_

_Your name, forever the name on my lips_

I sat there, for once not crying. I held tightly to my sweet, precious thoughts of Percy.

And for once, I didn't write them down.

**So there it was! My Percabeth one-shot. Hope you guys liked it and I hope you'll review!**

**~AA**


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